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I walked straight past him into acoustic tent, refusing to acknowledge him. I stood with my friends and felt the safety of the group. We took turns glaring across the sea of people at the blonde haired boy who had attempted to break my already broken heart. We wandered around always keeping tabs on where He was, keeping our distance yet one of the girls was always watching him. Checking to see if he reacted to the hugs and playful punches between me and my guy friends. See this may seem extreme but isn’t it what we all do? Subconsciously at least. Then I noticed it. I was the first to notice. I turned to Kaitlyn but she had already seen. There He was. Sat with a girl with long blonde hair, red cheeks and a severe lack of make up or style.

Was she prettier than me?

It’s okay, they don’t know each other and they’re barely talking.

Imagine, there were 6 of us all stood watching thinking we were being covert. Doing that thing in movies of hiding and spying. What the friggity fuck am I doing? I don’t care about that pathetic twat anymore! “Oh,” a little voice in my head said, “But you must! For else you wouldn’t be observing him in such a way that would make MI6 proud.”

We took a stroll around to the main stage and admired a hot guy playing guitar for a bit and then 5 minutes later we were back in the acoustic tent, outraged at the fact that He seemed to be making fast friends with the blonde girl.

Was she prettier than me?

No! No, my friends assured me! Besides, Lucy is over there counting the number of times He looks at you.

16. So far

Kaitlyn is analysing the way He is speaking. A few lines at the girl, glance towards me. A few lines at the girl, a glance towards me.

All the while I am smiling.

Day 2

I look hot. Short, tight black dress with checkered shirt and obviously the must have festival wellies.

We get there about 4ish and form a huge group (the kind I would have been intimidated to walk past). We’re just hanging around until a band that we know comes on stage and then I see Him again.

Oh shit.

He’s with his dad. Fuck! How do I look? Lucy, is he looking? “Don’t look now Tabby but he’s staring.”

Good.

It gets darker and darker and I get more and more aware of where He is at any given point. I’m not even trying. It just sort of happens…

It’s hot and everyone is pressed together. His group and my group have mutual friends so there’s kind of a chain of people and in that chain, I am about 4 people away from him.

He always told me that he could get any girl he wanted and he could pull really easily. Why is it then, that even the boy that would rather be in a room with a rat than me, also thinks I am a better catch than that blonde girl? Why, if you can pull oh-so-easily, are you stuck with a girl who isn’t half as pretty as your ex? Why, if you could get any girl, have you had to drop your standards?

Because, you are a cocky, arrogant little shit who is an expert in spouting bullshit, plagiarising poetry and having your head really far up your arse without doing any obvious damage.

So I’m dancing, I’m having a good time, I’m getting chatted up by a mildly drunk/high guy when I notice Him and the girl dancing very close together. But He isn’t dancing with her, she is dancing with Him… There is a difference, apparently.

So, he thinks he can pull? Well I can pull faster.

This guy just won’t leave me alone and keeps trying to kiss me. He already has his arms round my waist and I made quite certain that He could see that.

I look behind me and the girl has her arm round His waist.

What the fuck does she think she is doing? He is not yours and never will be!

So I turn around, mildly drunk/high guy in tow and with a quick check to make sure He is watching, I let the guy kiss me, hands all over me and He can do nothing but watch as I prove to him that I don’t need him.

Really? You think you could one up me by talking to a girl? Oh honey we both know I was always too good for you. Now you get what you deserve, a girl who knows nothing about you. Doesn’t know the fact that you have to check the door is locked 6 times, doesn’t know that the toilet roll has to hang on the outside, doesn’t know that you love old books, are obsessed with the smiths and your favourite movie is monster in paris. You get what you deserve, a girl who doesn’t care enough to know, just like you didn’t care enough to make time for me.

So this is the story of how I got over a useless boy. It is the usual tale of revenge, mild stalking and resentment.

The funny part is that he thought he was better than me and the hilarious part is that he thought I would want him back.

Don’t ever cry over your Him because he is not worth it. He was lucky enough to have you at all and he fucked that up. HE is the mess, not you. Honey, don’t ruin your mascara because of his stupidity.